


Voicemail

by AceLucky



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Although there's feelings, Angst, Cat Ears, Fantasizing, Feelings, Getting off, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Love?, Unspoken Confessions, Voicemail, butt plug, nipple pinching, self pleasure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceLucky/pseuds/AceLucky
Summary: Reno has feelings for Rude, he doesn't know how to tell him so in the mean time he gets his satisfaction by watching himself get off in the mirror while listening to a voicemail Rude left him.
Relationships: Reno/Rude (Compilation of FFVII)
Kudos: 43





	Voicemail

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short one but I wanted to get straight to the point, although it's technically a porn without plot fic, I do still like to put in some emotion/feelings and a little background - I hope I've managed to achieve it with this and that you enjoy reading!
> 
> Edit - I've had to go into this about 4 times on noticing various small grammar/spelling mistakes along with typing Rude's name as Reno at one point. I think I was very tired and a bit stressed when posting this! It should all be correct now!

Reno sits in front of the mirror, face of contemplation and studies his reflection. How many times has he done this now? For a second he tries to calculate it but he can’t. Not to worry, every time feels as good as the last. He wishes it didn’t. 

One hand on his cock, the other caressing his right nipple, gently stroking small and delicate circles. His thumb and index finger pinch and his breath hitches as a name dances on his tongue, pressure increasing, a tightening feeling in his chest pain to drown out the noise. 

Rewind. 

The first time was an accident, he was unwinding after a difficult day one hand in his boxers gently stroking himself when a voice came into his head. He tried to ignore it but the more he fought the more vivid the fantasies in his mind became until his dreams too became tainted with the very thing he was desperately trying to forget. 

Quickly the unexpected pastime became a ritual. Reno was not one unfamiliar with different ways of experiencing pleasure and so he was quick to find something that worked. Something that helped to release some of the unexpected tension he was carrying.

He does it in the bathroom, it’s easier to clean up there. He likes the mirror, likes to watch himself come undone. Sometimes he’s naked, sometimes he isn’t. Occasionally when feeling in the mood he wears cat ears which Rude brought for him as a joke. He always inserts a butt plug - it’s one with a fluffy tail. He imagines Rude tugging on it gently and in return he mewls like a kitten, squirming and needy. But, the neediness isn’t necessarily for sex, it isn’t born of lust but love. 

He’s said the word aloud a few times, it’s new to him and doesn’t sound right as it rolls from his tongue. Love is foreign. 

As Reno continues to stroke himself, he moves his left hand away from his nipple, now reaching for his phone. He holds his phone up like it’s a holy relic that holds the answers to his existence as he listens to the voicemail from Rude, “Reno, are you coming?”

Play “Reno, are you coming?” 

Beat 

Play “Reno, are you coming?”

Beat

Play “Reno, are you coming?”

Reno stops for a moment to catch his breath, he tries to fight the urge to play the message again but he can’t. He looks into the mirror again, his cheeks so flushed with colour they practically match his hair. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck and pools at his sternum. He rolls his hips so that he’s fucking his hand and clenches and unclenches around the toy that’s penetrating him.

He considers that he doesn’t have enough hands, he needs more to feel everything he needs to feel. As one continues to stroke his cock mercilessly, the other presses play on the voicemail over and over again. The butt plug has to suffice for now, but Reno would rather he was fucking himself with a dildo, or that Rude’s fingers…Rude’s tongue was probing at the tight ring of muscle. He would rather Rude was fucking him, making love to him. 

“Achh,” Reno cried at the thought, his thumb rubbing the head of his cock, gently massaging the pre-cum which leaked from the tip at the mere thought of Rude being anywhere near his asshole.

He wants hands pinning his wrists to the bed either side of his head. He wants hands on his sharp, jagged hips as he’s being fucked, wants a hand round his neck, a tight gloved hand gripping his jaw, he wants another pulling on his hair and lips kissing his roughly.

He knows it won’t be long until he cums, it never takes him long not when he’s been with Rude all day and returns frustrated to his apartment. 

The sight of himself jerking off in the mirror makes him blush, makes him feel shame. Why is he so dressed up for himself? Why does he do this. It makes him feel dirty but the perverse nature only turns him on more, makes his cock throb and ache wishing for a sweet release. 

He’s so close and usually his hand would move more swiftly, but this time he wants to draw the pleasure out. Reno is afraid that as always, when he does finally release the same guilt & shame will wash over him, that he’ll feel numb and be left with nothing but regret. So tonight he wants the pleasure to last and delay his orgasm.

He gives a few last pumps and then unclasps his hand from round his cock but it’s too late, the wheels are already in motion, his cock twitches with no further touch.

“Rude!” He cries out, his ass clenches tightly round the butt plug and he watches his reflection in horror as he orgasms, white ribbons shooting across onto the mirror making it appear like he’s split his seed on his own face.

He licks the mirror clean, imagines it’s not his own salt that he’s tasting. He laps it up then crumples onto the floor, a sticky ashamed mess with tears in his eyes wondering how long this infatuation will last and whether his thirst will ever be quelled. Rude, does Rude feel the same way?

How is it that something which takes away the pain so momentarily can multiple that pain just seconds later. Reality, Reno knows, is a bitch. He wants to know why it hurts so much, why there’s something that feels heavy like a lump of coal in his chest that tightens when he breathes. A hurt which is cured only by losing himself in acts of degradation, whether sex or drinking…It’s just a little something to take the edge of he lies to himself. 

He hates himself for now but he’ll be back for more tomorrow. A shaking hand presses play on the voicemail once more. 

“Reno, are you coming?” 

“Yes,” Reno manages to whimper.


End file.
